Willabeth drabbles
by A Bit Closer Johnny
Summary: A series of Willabeth drabbles in anticipation of the final installment of POTC answer to melleh's challenge
1. Library: Part 1

The Library

Racing to the door to escape the heavy onslaught of rain, a young woman entered the library with a shiver, politely lowering her hood which had kept her hair dry. She uttered a heavy yet relieved sigh, reveling in her surroundings—the beautiful comfort of the library, with its tall doors and desks of mahogany; its floors of wood; its romantically bright lamps.

Yet, most of all, she loved the Reading Corner. Automatically, she walked towards the rows of books, heavenly books, whose aroma—the aroma of crisp, printed pages—filled her senses, urging her to delve into one of such books and fulfill her yearning to read. She reached the coveted area; its enticement need be described. It was truly like a separate room which one entered through aforementioned mahogany doors, though these doors were at all times kept open. One was instantly greeted by warmth emanating from a luxurious fireplace, radiant and inviting. The flooring here was carpeted, giving the room and even more cozy appeal. The walls—they were simply wonderful. On one, resided an intricate map of the world. On the others, hung velvet draperies.

The woman stepped into this sanctuary and immediately seated herself on a pliable couch, one of three, and there was also an armchair, and situated in the middle was a fair-sized coffee table. She was alone, but was kept company by the roaring flames of the fire, and of course, the several books she had acquired whilst meandered briefly about the "Classics" section. She loved a good classic, especially one involving romance. Particularly one involving romance. She loved it almost as much as coming to the Reading Corner on a rainy day.


	2. Library: Part 2

The Library: Part 2

Shani: Here you are : )

Oft, as she explored the pages of a book, drawn by the romantic fantasies, she thought that she herself was, indeed, living in such a fantasy. She would escape to the surreal Reading Corner…but why would she escape? Fantasy is always better than reality. Perhaps two could live in this fantasy.

Passing her hand across a page she was suddenly startled, her wandering thoughts interrupted, by a persistent ringing. Fishing through her purse, she retrieved the culprit, and answered her phone furtively, speaking softly.

"Elizabeth? Are you—where are you?" came the thick English accent on the other end. Elizabeth's heart felt as if it was racing a million miles per hour.

"Will! I've been hoping to hear from you. It's raining, so I…"

Will uttered a gentle chuckle.

"I know exactly where you are, love. I'll be there in 2 seconds."

Elizabeth smiled and sighed happily as she ended the call.

Yes, this was the beautiful, romantic fantasy she was living in.

_He knows me so well",_ she thought. She bit her lip in anticipation.

Suddenly, and Elizabeth was rather surprised, were heard rushing footsteps, and Will appeared, breathless, and standing by the doorway.

"Oh my God—Will! That literally was 2 seconds!" Elizabeth exclaimed laughingly, jumping up to greet him.

"I couldn't wait to see you", he replied, pulling her close, as their lips met in a kiss.

Elizabeth gazed into his unfathomable eyes for a moment, finding only love and compassion. Thus, she drew away, taking his hand, and leading him next to the ongoing fire.

"Here then, you're clothes are all wet", she remarked, eying him with humor amidst her gaze.

He obliged, plopping down on the sofa, only to pull Elizabeth down with him. She stifled a laugh, and buried herself into his warm embrace.

"I'm so glad you came—I missed you", she murmured.

Will pressed his lips against her temple. "Was the book not keeping you company?"

Elizabeth rolled her eyes lightheartedly. "Certainly not. It was rather dull, actually."

"Really, Ms. Swann?" Will replied, adopting a mocking tone as he drew her closer. "As I recall, that's one of your favorites—all that fantasy you read about."

Elizabeth was nearly breathless. "It doesn't hold a candle to the fantasy I'm experiencing right here, with you."

"Liz…God, I love you" he whispered nigh inaudibly, realizing all at once how incredibly irresistible she was: her face casting shadows by the fire's light; her waves of hair gracefully cascading across her shoulders; her bright eyes glistening.

He kissed her passionately, loving her as much as he hoped she loved him.

Elizabeth sighed ecstatically, nestling against her love, believing certainly that her fantasy had come true.


	3. Fragrant Hair

Drabble: Fragrance

Disclaimer: POTC is of another's imagination…

Elizabeth rapidly scanned the pages of her tome with interest, her eagerness to read it apparent. She traced her finger along the new, golden binding, tingling with excitement. Then, taking it in both hands, she brought it near her face, and…oh!

She inhaled the scent of the fresh pages—what a wonderful, intoxicating aroma! The tree-like smell mixed with the smell of ink: nothing could compare to such a fragrance!

It had to be the best fragrance in the world, Elizabeth soundly decided.

She paused suddenly as her eyes fluttered open, and she disregarded the book, simply. With the flick of a hand, the book landed with a _thump_ and a flurry of pages onto the seat beside her, and she cast not a backwards glance at it. Where did the desire for it go? Was it not temptingly beautiful, alluring, exciting? Could anything be better than a greatly-anticipated novel?

An exhilarated cry resounded through the room; the book, despondent and dejected, thought for a fleeting moment that the cry was one of lamentation and remorse for flinging it away so, but, poor book: it was mistaken.

Elizabeth, the utterer of such a cry, flew into the arms of a gentleman standing casually by the doorway, a lighthearted smirk upon his face, and adoration in his eyes.

"Will", she whispered, her heart brimming with ecstasy as he captured her, and held her firmly, their lips meeting in an eternal kiss.

No, Elizabeth thought resolutely, William Turner is the best fragrance in the world—as she lost herself amongst his invigorating, piquant aura.

* * *

Drabble: Hair 

Soft, tangled, smooth, wavy, curly, dark, light—Elizabeth Swann's hair had had each of these qualities. When a young child, it was soft, almost downy; it curled delicately, dark curls. As she aged, it remained still soft, yet lightened to a color that more resembled her mother's hair. As further time wore on, so did the transition from curls to waves and more drastically from deep brunette to that of chocolate swirled with honey.

That was the result of her outdoor adventures. Thus came the change from constantly smooth locks to tangled, then back to smooth when she remained on land, as opposed to on a pirate ship over open water. There, the wind was brutal, making her hair even knotted.

At her present station, her own home, Elizabeth sat in front of a mirror at her vanity, pondering such things abovementioned.

"Oh, dear", she sighed, and purposely shook her tousles, honey drops tumbling before her eyes, more and more russet whirls, suddenly invaded by a tendril of obsidian.

She gasped, taken aback, and discovered the owner of the magnificent swarthiness. Those eyes, the eyes of her husband, flashed, matching perfectly his own hair—dark, mysterious, unalterable. Unalterable. With a prick of dismay, Elizabeth realized that indeed, his hair had never changed. It has always been…

"Elizabeth, what are you doing?" he asked, mirth tingeing his voice, as he raised and eyebrow.

She blushed slightly, then brought her hand forward, brushing her fingertips against his tresses.

"I love your hair", she admitted wistfully.

Will chuckled, removing her fingers and bringing them to his lips.

"I love you, my dear, despite your caprices."

She pursed her lips, haughtily withdrawing her hand, to which Will displayed a look of feigned injury.

"Wouldn't you like to know why?"

Will clasped his hands together, and peered at her with attentiveness and adoration.

"Why then?"

"Because it is constant", she replied in all sincerity. "_You_ are my constant, every part of you."

"Oh, Liz", he murmured, stroking her cheek. "You are also _my _constant." He smirked. "You needn't worry that your hair changes shades."

She shook her head and laughed as he lifted her in his arms and kissed her.


End file.
